


Spark Like Empty Lighters

by atticrissfinch



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, bp!Blaine, student / teacher relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 18:11:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atticrissfinch/pseuds/atticrissfinch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to just be a hook-up between student and teacher...and it was. But what will happen when Blaine reveals to Kurt that he's pregnant with Kurt's child?</p><p>an mpreg!blaine au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spark Like Empty Lighters

It wasn’t supposed to happen. It was a complete accident. An entirely enjoyable, _orgasmic_ accident, but an accident nonetheless.

 

It’s just the way Blaine _looks_ at him all the time. Like he wants to be devoured by Kurt. Like he would do anything for him. _Be_ anything for him. It was totally inappropriate, the way Blaine looked at him—during class, in the halls, in the cafeteria— _any_ time they were in the same place at the same time.

 

The boy was nothing short of a goddamn tease, and Kurt hadn’t been laid in months. Not to mention Blaine was _really_ hot for a high school boy. And Blaine wanted Kurt, bad.

 

So when Blaine intentionally missed the very last bus and didn’t bring his car to school, he slinked through Kurt’s door with nothing but playfully innocent intent, and begged Kurt to give him a ride home. His parents wouldn’t be home for _hours_ , and they hated to be disturbed at work.

 

Kurt knew very well that giving a student a ride was frowned upon, especially when that student is a minor and there’s nobody else in the car. It felt slightly pedophile-ish, despite Blaine only being seventeen, but he caved.

 

It was a moment of gargantuan weakness, and he _caved_.

 

Before he knew it, they were pulled over in a deserted parking lot—a _church parking lot_ of all completely, repulsively wrong places—and Kurt was on him in the back seat like a lion on its prey.

 

Then Blaine’s bottom half was gloriously, youthfully naked beneath him with his glistening pussy and smooth folds that Blaine had hinted he possessed many a time in hushed tones when he was alone with Kurt, trying to rile him up. Kurt’s achingly hard cock was out of his pants with his boxer-briefs tucked under his balls and his pant flaps folded open, and Blaine was _pleading_ with Kurt to just fucking put it in him already.

 

 _God_ , Kurt had been so good about not indulging Blaine all year (ok, so it’s only been a couple months since the year started, but with the way Blaine has been teasing Kurt it’s a true miracle), yet there he knelt in the back seat of his car, straddling Blaine’s naked hips with his dick hanging out…and no condom to speak of.

 

Kurt really should’ve been smarter than this, should at least have one in his wallet, but the fact remains that he didn’t, and Blaine was still begging under him.

 

“Mr. Hummel, we don’t _need_ one! I’m clean, I promise, and I trust you. _Please_.”

 

And those eyes, those goddamn puppy eyes…Kurt had shoved himself inside of Blaine’s wet cunt just to turn those eyes _off_. It was fast and sweaty and _loud_ , Blaine was so _loud_ when he got fucked, even in the back of a goddamn Honda Civic. Blaine begged and cried out and took Kurt like nobody Kurt’s ever been with before.

 

And then Kurt came inside of him—which again, he shouldn’t have, should have pulled out and spurted all over the boy’s stomach, made him clean up the mess Blaine had just made of Kurt’s life as well as their skin, but again he didn’t. He was filling Blaine’s pussy up to the brim with hot shame and desire.

 

Blaine shuddered and clamped around him like the world was ending as he came to his own blissful end, panting and whining into Kurt’s shoulder and clawing at his back desperately, not wanting Kurt to pull out.

 

But Blaine’s reign over him had ended, and Kurt resigned that this _thing_ between them was over along with it. They’d done it, they’d fucked, and now they’re finished. And Kurt was going to _make_ Blaine move on if he didn’t comply.

 

Then they were back into the front seats, Blaine staring out the window as the impact of what Kurt had said while they were redressing settles in his head. Kurt was pretty sure he saw a tear or two leak down his cheeks, but Blaine had wiped them away as soon as they fell.

 

Blaine exited the car without a word when they arrived at his house, slamming the car door behind him and running up to the strong oak door of his home and slamming that shut too once he had it unlocked.

 

Kurt thumped his head against the headrest of his seat, clenched his eyes shut and tried to convince him that what just happened never happened at all. He didn’t just fuck one of his students, he didn’t fuck an _underage_ student, and he _did not_ enjoy it.

 

If he sped to get home and pour himself a large glass of wine and cry a little, he felt he couldn’t really be blamed.

 

\--

 

“Good morning, Mr. Hummel!”

 

Kurt forces a smile from behind his desk, returning a kind salutation to Jessica as she seats herself in her usual spot, Kurt continues to scribbles nonsense notes in his planner to look like he’s preoccupied as more students filter in, some greet him, and Kurt responds evenly, but curtly. The forced behavior continues until the last couple students rush inside to take their seats.

 

Blaine isn’t one of them.

 

Suddenly, Kurt feels very, _very_ sick. He apologizes profusely to his senior English class, tells them to talk amongst themselves as they love to do while Kurt goes to check on something he forgot. The students break into chatter almost immediately, and Kurt all but bolts to the door and down the hall to the restroom. It is blissfully empty, students gratefully heeding the final bell for first period, and Kurt locks the door for good measure.

 

He’s pale—paler than usual, a sickly kind of pale that reflects mockingly back at him through the mirror. Kurt runs the sink and splashes cool water over his face, regulating his breathing as he clutches his hands on either side of the ceramic fixture.

 

Kurt had _sex with a student_. And that student should be in his classroom right now, but he isn’t. Bile rises in his throat, and Kurt rushes to a stall, heaving his breakfast into the reeking toilet as his eyes water—from tears or the vomiting he’s not quite sure. Probably both.

 

 _He’d fucked a student_.

 

Kurt allows himself to stall only until he gets himself up to scratch again, looking as presentable as possible, before unlocking the door and strolling back to his class, attempting to look as dignified as possible. When he returns, Blaine still isn’t there, and Kurt won’t let it get to him, to his teaching.

 

He can’t. He has to do his job.

 

But when he has to leave once again in the middle of third period to stem another vomiting spell, he resolves to get a substitute for the rest of the day. Luckily the next period is lunch, so he can run to the office and inform them before hitting the road as if he wants it to hit back.

 

When Kurt gets to his car, there’s a fluttering piece of white tucked under his windshield wiper, and Kurt slips it out, seeing glimpses of clumsy boy writing on a sheet of computer paper.

 

_I know it was wrong, but you can’t deny it was good._

No names on the paper, just those few words, and Kurt’s blood runs cold. He crumples up the paper and chucks it into the back of his car as he clambers inside and turns the ignition with a shaky hand.

 

He needs more wine. Definitely more wine. And maybe some vodka.

 

\--

 

Blaine _does_ show up the next day, but he doesn’t look at Kurt, not once. His eyes remain glued to his desk throughout the entire class. Kurt doesn’t give Blaine any reason to do otherwise, leaving him be, as he should. When the bell rings, Blaine is the first one out, and Kurt can breathe properly again.

 

This goes on until Friday rolls around three days later. They still don’t look at each other, let alone speak. Blaine doesn’t offer answers, and Kurt doesn’t call on him. But Kurt paperclips a note to one of Blaine’s papers as he’s handing them back to the class, dropping it on his desk without making eye contact. Out the corner of his eye, he sees Blaine grip the note in his hand, scrunch it up, and shove it in his pocket.

 

Only then does Blaine meet Kurt’s eyes, just for a moment, before they dart back to his desk.

 

Blaine exits quickly, as Kurt is now accustomed, and all he can hope is that Blaine obeys the direction given on the note.

 

Five minutes after the lunch bell rings, there’s a knock on Kurt’s door, and Blaine slips inside without being invited.

 

Well, technically he was invited, but not verbally.

 

The snick of the door closing behind Blaine sets Kurt on edge behind his desk. Blaine simply stands there, his back to the door, but his eyes still not meeting Kurt’s. He stares at his shoes, and Kurt stares at him.

 

“Sit down.” Kurt commands softly from behind his desk, and Blaine hesitates a moment before taking a seat at the desk most in front of Kurt. “We need to talk.” Kurt says calmly, more calmly than he feels.

 

Blaine clasps his hands on top of the desk, staring at a point just above Kurt’s head on the blackboard. “You can’t use a breakup line. We’re not even together.”

 

“Blaine.”

 

“What? It’s true.”

 

“Blaine, please.”

 

“I don’t know what you want from me.” Blaine says, a whine in his voice. And Blaine sounds so young right there, Kurt starts to feel himself get sick to his stomach again.

 

“I want you to forget that what happened ever happened at all.”

 

“I don’t want to.” Blaine replies stubbornly.

 

“Blaine, nothing is going to happen between us. I’m twelve years older than you, and I’m your _teacher_.”

 

“You liked it just as much as I did, Mr. Hummel, I know you did.”

 

“That isn’t the point, Blaine!” Kurt challenges, feeling his skin crawl uncomfortably hearing “Mr. Hummel” used in that context. He would almost rather be called Kurt. “The point is it _can’t_ happen! Not that it _shouldn’t_ happen, but it _can’t_.”

 

“Why not?” Blaine asks, as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world to just keep having sex now that they’ve tried it and liked it, not worrying about consequences.

 

Kurt sighs heavily, cupping a hand over his forehead. “Because it’s wrong, Blaine.” He then lowers his voice to a harsh whisper, leaning in toward Blaine and speaking only just loud enough for him to hear. “And it’s illegal. I could go to jail, Blaine! Do you realize that? Did you think about that while you were spending every moment in my presence trying to seduce me?”

 

“I wasn’t _trying_ to seduce you…” Blaine mumbles, crossing his arms across his chest, a little petulantly.

 

Kurt stares at him, sheer deadpan across his features, until Blaine sighs and shrugs. “Ok, fine, I was. But can you blame me? You’re gorgeous.”

 

“I can and I will.” Kurt says, skirting around Blaine’s praise to avoid shifting the pseudo-civil conversation they’re sharing into a compliment contest. “If we had gotten caught, I would lose _everything_ , Blaine. And your life would never be the same. You would always be ‘that gay kid who got fucked by his teacher’, and I would be called a rapist, a child molester, regardless of whether you consented or not, because _that is what people think_. Especially a _gay_ teacher. Who apparently can’t get his rocks off anywhere else but in the classroom.”

 

Blaine eyes begin to glisten with tears, his lip quivering softly as he listens to every word Kurt says, and he can tell that he is finally getting through to Blaine the magnitude of what they’ve done. Blaine’s voice cracks when he speaks, his voice thick with the unshed tears. “Mr. Hummel, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

 

“Blaine…” Kurt whispers more gently, lifting himself from his chair and gliding over to the boy, sitting in the desk right next to him. Blaine spins around to him, his face blotched, but beautiful Kurt can’t help but notice. “It’s not completely your fault, it’s mine too. What matters is that we _didn’t_ get caught. And that we never put ourselves in a situation like that again, do you understand?”

 

Blaine’s eyes are brimming with wetness, but he nods, sniffing at his running nose. “Yes, Mr. Hummel. It won’t happen again. But I can’t tell you that I’ll forget it either.”

 

Kurt grants him a small smile, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Neither will I. That was a far reach anyway. You don’t forget something as good as that. Especially knowing you’ll never have it again.”

 

Blaine gives a tearful smile and stands, hauling his satchel onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hummel. I’m not sorry it happened, but I’m sorry for the context in which it did.”

 

Kurt follows Blaine’s suit, standing but then leaning backwards against the front of the desk, gripping the edge lightly with his fingers. “You’re a smart one, Blaine. But sometimes you don’t think things through. I’m guilty of that too, clearly. It just took me a while longer to succumb to it.”

 

Blaine blushes, hardly enough to notice, but Kurt does, and the boy stares at his shoes again. All the bashful seventeen year old boy that Blaine embodies in one single image. “Mr. Hummel?” Blaine chances, looking up at Kurt through dark lashes.

 

“Yes, Blaine?”

 

The boy chews on his lip nervously, his hand stroking up and down the strap of his leather bag. “Can I…kiss you?”

 

Kurt’s eyes fall shut, exhaling sharply, and shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Blaine, but it’s over.” His eyes drift open to see Blaine’s face crumble, but only a little, as if he’d been expecting the response.

 

“Of course. I’m sorry I asked. It’s…that’s really it, then, isn’t it?”

 

“That’s really it.”

 

Blaine nods, understandingly. “Bye Mr. Hummel. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“See you tomorrow, Blaine.”

 

And Kurt watches him leave.

 

\--

 

They don’t screw up again. Weeks pass, and they’re careful. Tender-footed and cautious about how they act around each other and both of them trying desperately to not make things awkward.

 

Blaine doesn’t have trouble talking in class anymore, volunteering opinions or information, and Kurt has no problem responding. The tension between them—some of it sexual, and that’s just bound to happen due to them both knowing what the other’s junk looks like, how they look when they come—is manageable, but it’s present. Kurt wasn’t sure it would ever _not_ be present. That afternoon would always be engraved in the back of their minds, Kurt pushing into Blaine and him opening up for it so easily, arching his back so fucking beautifully against the leather of Kurt’s interior, the way he cried out and begged…it was all still there.

 

But despite everything, they’re solid with each other. They keep the student-teacher dynamic in check and they don’t slip up for two months.

 

And then one morning, Blaine doesn’t show up to class. At first, Kurt doesn’t let it get to him, because Blaine is perfectly welcome to take a sick day. He’s a dependable student, never tardy, and has never missed a day aside from the “day-after”.

 

The next day, however, he’s still absent.

 

And by the third day, Kurt starts to get worried. Had something gone wrong? Had Kurt done, said anything to make Blaine uncomfortable?

 

Oh _god_ , had Blaine’s parents found out about them?

 

Kurt can’t keep himself from running to the office during his prep period, and inquiring as to where his student was. It’s not like it was out of character, he was a teacher, and when a student is gone for several days he has a right to ask if something is wrong.

 

The secretary, Miss Stewart, is always kind and accommodating. She simply informs Kurt that his father has been calling him in sick the past few days and that it is probably just the flu and he should be back into classes shortly.

 

Something about that seems off, but he thanks Miss Stewart as genially as he can, and keeps his pace average as he returns to the teacher’s lounge.

 

Kurt knows about Blaine’s father. Blaine had shared a lot with Kurt about his father before _the incident_. How they never get along, how often they fight…and how he is never around. Always on business trips or at work until ungodly hours of the night. His mother isn’t much better, Kurt knows, but Miss Stewart had specifically said that Blaine’s _father_ has been calling in. A voice Blaine could imitate if need be.

 

And that makes Kurt suspicious. He decides to wait one more day, and if he still doesn’t show up, Kurt will make a visit to his house.

 

The following morning, Kurt is overjoyed when Blaine walks into the room. He looks unharmed, with the exception of being quite pale, but Kurt supposes that Blaine actually was out with the flu. He was still recuperating, but well enough to go to school. He’s not worried until Blaine approaches his desk after discarding his bag at his usual seat.

 

Kurt notes a slight tremor in Blaine’s hand, and he’s even paler up close, which has Kurt a little startled.

 

“Mr. Hummel? I wondered if I might come back at lunch to discuss the days I missed?” Blaine’s voice is uneven, shaky, and if Kurt wasn’t worried before, he is definitely worried now.

 

“Yes, of course, Blaine.” Kurt utters, giving Blaine a silent look to ask if he’s ok. Blaine’s eyes shift down to Kurt’s desk and then back up to Kurt’s eyes; they reveal nothing but the slightest bit of fear. Blaine just nods and mutters a thank you before reclaiming his seat.

 

Kurt stares at him as Blaine arranges his supplies on his desk, and there is a definite change in behavior even with this small task. A sluggish, mechanical pace about it all. Blaine doesn’t speak during class, and whenever their eyes meet, Blaine’s shoot away almost instantly to look elsewhere. When Blaine leaves, Kurt senses desperation in a parting look from the boy.

 

Through the next two periods, Kurt can’t stop thinking, can’t stop worrying, and lunch could not come slower. Something is seriously wrong with Blaine, and he has no idea what it is.

 

The bell does finally ring to signal lunch, and Kurt falls against his desk with a heavy sigh. “Well done today, everyone. Have a good lunch.”

 

As the class scrambles out quickly to try and get all of the good food from the cafeteria before it’s gone, Kurt sits at his desk arranging and rearranging everything on it anxiously, just for something to do, until the door squeaks open and reveals Blaine.

 

He looks, if possible, paler than he had two hours ago. He’s wringing his hands brutally, almost punishingly, as the door falls shut behind him. Blaine walks steadily toward Kurt, not bothering to pull up a chair, and just stands next to Kurt’s cushioned seat. Up close, there are worry lines across Blaine’s entire face, an impenetrable weariness, and he looks a strange combination of old and withered and young and terrified.

 

Kurt is the first to speak, since the silence between them hints that Blaine isn’t going to. “Blaine, what is wrong? You look like death.”

 

That’s when the first tear drops down Blaine’s cheek and his face scrunches up as it makes way for more. Blaine cups a hand over his mouth as a sob breaks free. Kurt’s eyes widen with sympathy, terror, and he jumps up from his seat. Decorum be damned, Kurt pulls Blaine into his arms, and Blaine clutches desperately at Kurt’s back, wrinkling his shirt in the process.

 

“Shhh, Blaine. It’s ok. You can tell me, it’s ok.” And Kurt feels tears burning in his eyes for no other reason that it being a reflex to Blaine’s pain.

 

“I— _hic—_ don’t know how. I don’t know…you’re going to— _hic_ —hate me.” Blaine sobs into Kurt’s shoulder.

 

“I am _not_ going to hate you Blaine. I promise.”

 

Blaine pulls away reluctantly, bringing a hand up to wipe at the tears before folding his arms tightly over his chest as his lips continue to tremble. “Sit down. You’re—you’re gonna want to sit down.”

 

Kurt’s face creases with concern, but he does as Blaine suggests. And Blaine doesn’t waste a moment before it comes out in a choked whisper. The thing that has been plaguing his mind all day, possibly the last few days.

 

“I’m pregnant.”

 

White noise.

 

It rushes in his ears, it buzzes shrilly, and it fogs up Kurt’s brain.

 

This can’t be possible.

 

Kurt knows that it’s not _im_ possible. It’s just not _likely_ , not with males, but it’s also not unheard of. Very few men are carriers, a miniscule percentage, on top of the larger percentage of men who have pussies, and Blaine had probably never checked. Just thought he had a pussy, but never _dreamed_ that he would ever be—

 

That Kurt could get him—

 

… _pregnant_.

 

Oh god, Blaine was pregnant. There was something growing inside of him at this very moment. Not just something, a _person_. A person that was just as much his as it was Blaine’s—right?

 

“Is it…mine?” Kurt whispers once he recovers, after some of the fuzz in his ears has dwindled to a dull static.

 

Blaine nods miserably, sliding his arms protectively—self-consciously, Kurt realizes—over his stomach. “Doctor says I’m two months in.”

 

Kurt blinks, collapses against the back of his chair and feels his heart rate pick up. “Do you know if you’re…going to keep it?”

 

A gentle sob leaves Blaine’s mouth before he can stop it. “I don’t know. I.. _god_ I don’t know! I don’t know anything!”

 

Kurt finally feels the tears gathering is his own eyes. “This is all my fault.”

 

“No, it’s not, Mr. Hummel!” Blaine says desperately, the tears welling up in his eyes again. “It’s my fault! I never got checked! I’m the one that pushed you into…it’s me! It’s my stupid fucking body and it’s my stupid fucking fault!”

 

“It’s not all your fault, Blaine!”

 

“Yes it is! It has to be! Because I’m going to be raising it alone! It can never know who its father is! I can never tell them!”

 

“Blaine, what are you talking about?” Kurt asks, confused at Blaine’s logic in the situation.

 

Blaine gives him a look as if it’s obvious. “Well it’s not like you can help me. Everyone would know it’s yours. And then everything you’ve worked for would be ruined. You made that abundantly clear after it happened.”

 

“That was before I knew you were carrying my child!”

 

Blaine falls silent at that, almost taken aback it seems.

 

“Blaine, I’m not just going to leave you to fend for yourself. This is a big fucking deal. And you’re just a kid. This is my responsibility too, if not more.”

 

“But, Mr. Hummel—”

 

“For god’s sake, Blaine, call me Kurt. I can’t…handle you calling me…at this point you need to call me by my name.”

 

Blaine’s eyebrows furrow, but he obeys. “Ok…Kurt. It’s just that I don’t know how you can help without getting found out. Because there’s another problem.”

 

 _Another_ problem? God, what else could possibly go wrong?

 

“You know my parents, K-kurt. When they find out, I’ll be out of the house for sure. My dad’s been calling me a slut ever since he found out I was gay, and now that he actually has _proof_ …they’re not going to want me _or_ the baby around as a reminder of that. And I know that for a fact.”

 

“You are _not_ a slut, Blaine. You made a mistake— _we_ made a mistake.” Kurt quickly revises, because it wasn’t just Blaine’s mistake. It was just as much Kurt’s as it was his. “And if that happens, you’ll…you’ll stay with me. We’ll figure it all out. But I’m not going to let you handle all of this on your own.”

 

Blaine nods, and he looks more relaxed than when they started, but still weary and terrified.

 

“I’m not going to pretend that I have any right to tell you what to do with it, either. It’s your body, after all. I mean, if you want my input, I’ll give it, but it’s your decision.”

 

“I do want your input.” Blaine expresses. “I want to do everything with you. I _want_ you to be the one to help me through this, Kurt. More than anything. But I would never want to put that kind of risk on your head.”

 

“You let me worry about me, ok? You just focus on you.” Kurt assuages, reaching out and taking both Blaine’s hands in his own. Blaine’s watery eyes brighten at the basic gesture, and it warms Kurt’s heart. It also makes it ache for how vulnerable Blaine is right now. “We’ll get through this, Blaine. We got ourselves into this mess, right? So we’ll go through it together as well.”

 

Blaine squeezes Kurt’s hands before letting them fall, returning his hands to his stomach.

 

Kurt extends a hand again, this time hovering over Blaine’s abdomen. “Can I?” Kurt asks quietly, and Blaine nods immediately, dropping his hands to his sides. Kurt wheels forward in his chair, bracing himself before resting his palm on Blaine’s stomach. It doesn’t feel different, and there’s no noticeable bump yet, just the cute tummy that Blaine already possessed when they hooked up in the first place.

 

And as Kurt’s hand lay there, he realized that there _was_ going to be a bump soon. Not just a bump, a _massive_ bump, if Blaine chooses to keep it. There was a _baby_ in there, right at this moment, growing under Kurt’s fingertips. And Kurt is hit with reality, the reality that he _wants_ Blaine to keep it. Keep him or her. He wants to hold it in his arms, wants to raise it, and wants that child to be his. Not just biologically, but emotionally and physically _his_.

 

Kurt pulls his hand away before the reality of the situation, of actually _feeling_ where it is, causes him to say something stupid, like asking Blaine to marry him just so the baby _is_ legally his. He urges Blaine to go clean himself up and eat some food. But as Blaine is leaving, he pipes up. His back is to Kurt, but his head is tilted over his shoulder towards him.

 

“Mr. Hummel—Kurt? Are you…angry?”

 

A fist grapples with Kurt’s heart at those words. “Of course not, Blaine. Why on earth would I be angry?”

 

“Because I just fucked up everything in your life. Forever.”

 

“You didn’t fuck it up, Blaine. You just changed it. There’s nothing wrong with change. Especially if it’s…if it’s for the better.”

 

Blaine turns half around. “Better?” He asks skeptically, his hand subconsciously moving to his stomach in the most _adorable_ gesture that Kurt has ever seen.

 

Kurt nods. “Better.”

 

And deep inside, Kurt knew he’d never regret saying that to the mortified, seventeen-year-old boy in front of him.

 

\--

 

Blaine shows up at his door three weeks later, bags at his feet.

 

Kurt sighs, but he pushes the door wide, and helps carry them inside. They fill up the one guest room that Kurt has in his small apartment. When Blaine collapses onto the bed and starts sobbing, Kurt doesn’t think twice before climbing up and pulling Blaine into his arms until Blaine composes himself again.

 

It takes over an hour, but Kurt doesn’t move. Doesn’t interrupt when Blaine narrates how horrific it had been, when he comments that the skin of his cheek is still sore and tingling from his father’s blinding smack, when he tells of the silent disgust in his mother’s eyes upon looking at her son like he was sent as her personal demon.

 

Blaine doesn’t mention it, but Kurt can tell the baby is starting to show the barest amount. And if they’re going to make a decision, they need to make it now. He really has no idea whatsoever what Blaine is thinking. He wants to know if Blaine actually intends to raise the child, or he wants an abortion, or maybe adoption. It isn’t  much of Kurt’s business what he does, he’d made that clear to Blaine, but the boy seems to want Kurt’s approval with whatever he chooses. Whatever the decision, Kurt is pretty sure that Blaine is getting ready to tell him.

 

Kurt orders pizza and they eat it in relative silence.

 

“I’m keeping it.”

 

The words are sudden, out of place, random. But Kurt knows exactly what he’s referring to. Kurt looks over to Blaine, sitting cross-legged on his couch with a plate of pizza in his hands, a tiny dab of sauce at the corner of his mouth that Blaine hasn’t noticed. He nods at the boy, giving him a small smile.

 

“I’m glad.”

 

Blaine looks down at his plate sheepishly. Kurt leans over just a little and wipes away the red smudge with his thumb. Blaine’s eyes widen in shock at the motion, but Kurt just gives him a reassuring smile and cleans his thumb on a napkin.

 

Blaine really is only a child. Comparatively to Kurt’s nearly thirty years, Blaine is a child. And Kurt honestly doesn’t know if he’d rather be a replacement father to the boy or be a lover.

 

But the reminder that the baby inside of Blaine is Kurt’s…well, that quells any thought of being Blaine’s father. He doesn’t know what they are. Kurt is too old for Blaine. Blaine doesn’t think so, but Kurt does. Yet he can’t stop _feeling_ for the boy in his heart. Wanting to reach out and kiss him, kiss his bare stomach, kiss every inch of him and tell him that he’ll be here for Blaine, no matter what.

 

Blaine seems so innocent, so naïve, but what makes it difficult is that Kurt has seen the sexy side of him, too. And he wants that, despite everything inside of him telling him it’s wrong. Despite that being the cause of their situation in the first place.

 

Kurt’s torn every second of every day, but the burning in his gut every time Blaine looks at him a certain way is solid proof that Kurt isn’t going to be able to just stand back and watch. He wants to be attached to Blaine, to protect him, but also to love him. Love him and make love to him and show him what a family can be.

 

Right then, Blaine gives him one of those special smiles, and Kurt’s brain flips over itself.

 

\--

 

It’s still cold when Blaine starts to show, luckily, and he’s able to hide it with sweaters and coats. They both know that Blaine is holding off the inevitable, but they only found out about everything a little over two months ago and Blaine is not ready to tell people quite yet.

 

The only person who knows is Blaine’s best friend, Sam, and he’s been amazing for Blaine. He’s always supportive and encouraging, and he never looks at Kurt as if he’s a disgusting piece of shit like Kurt feels sometimes.

 

Blaine has made himself perfectly at home in Kurt’s apartment, which luckily has an indoor entrance, so the suspicion of Blaine living with Kurt is notably down. They don’t drive to school together, Blaine always drives himself, and Kurt is always there at least an hour earlier anyway. Blaine and Kurt never see each other in the morning, and their first greeting is always during first period.

 

One morning, Kurt is up early. Early enough that he has at least an hour and a half to kill because he can’t get back to sleep. So he quietly opens his door and treks down the hallway, where he stops curiously. The light is on in the kitchen—a curiosity since turning it on is a designated part of Kurt’s morning routine.

 

“Blaine?” Kurt wonders aloud, turning the corner into the kitchen, and then halting with a hitch of breath.

 

“I’m so sorry! Did I wake you?” Blaine asks, regret engrained in his face. But it’s not exactly Blaine’s face that Kurt is preoccupied with.

 

Blaine is wearing briefs. And nothing else. The curve of his stomach is shallow, but pronounced without anything in the way of it; nothing but skin stretching over muscle. And suddenly Kurt is very, _very_ awake.

 

Kurt swallows briefly, shaking his head as an afterthought. “No, no. I was…I was very much awake.” And Kurt can’t stop staring at the boy. The way his body moves, how his stomach is swelled the tiniest amount, the toned nature of his thighs—all of it has Kurt reeling. This was not what he expected to wake up to.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t sleep well. I’ve just been thinking in here. Got a snack. I’m sorry, I’m not dressed, I’ll go…” Blaine is rambling, and it’s adorable and sexy and when Blaine tries to breeze past Kurt, he lays a hand firmly on the boy’s arm to prevent him. He looks at Kurt, confused. “Kurt? Are you ok?”

 

Kurt doesn’t answer, just pushes him gently, but inflexibly into the refrigerator. His bare back hits the cool shell of it, and Blaine gasps softly, his hands moving to grip either side of the object. “K-K-Kurt?” Blaine stutters out, but Kurt shakes his head, sliding resolutely to his knees in front of the boy and running a hand down his skin as he goes. The back of Blaine’s head hits the fridge with a _clunk_ , and he whimpers. “Kurt, please don’t be teasing about this. Being pregnant is making me so fucking horny all the time. Don’t…you can’t…you can’t pretend with me—”

 

“Hush.” Kurt commands, running his hands up Blaine’s inner thighs and then back down. “No one’s pretending.”

 

He glides a hand slowly over the bump of Blaine’s stomach before leaning in to kiss the skin softly. He looks up at Blaine to see his teeth are biting holes into his lower lip to try and keep quiet. When Kurt leans in again, the kiss to Blaine’s abdomen is dirtier, slick and sucking with the barest amount of teeth that causes Blaine to squeak in the most alluring manner. Kurt frames Blaine’s stomach with both hands, placing small, wet kisses over every inch he can manage.

 

“This is ours. This baby inside you is ours.” He says it possessively, bordering on a growl, and Blaine just nods frantically.

 

“Yes, yes, it’s _ours_. Please, just _do something_ , Kurt. Please!”

 

Kurt heaves himself off the floor and maneuvers Blaine as forcefully as he dares until he’s bent over the counter and Kurt is pressed against his back, close enough that he’s sure Blaine can feel his cock through his sweatpants. He bites playfully at Blaine’s earlobe, pulling another whimper and a whine from him as he starts to roll his hips forward into the divide of Blaine’s ass.

 

“You want me to fuck another one into you, Blaine?” Kurt hisses into his ear and hearing Blaine moan. “Fuck you so hard you’ll think I knocked you up all over again.”

 

“God, _please_ , Kurt. Been waiting so fucking long for this, please.” Blaine whines, taking the liberty to shove his own briefs down his legs and stepping out of them, leaving himself entirely naked to Kurt’s eyes for the very first time.

 

Kurt had never actually seen Blaine’s bare ass before, only from the view he had when he fucked Blaine on his back in the car, the bottoms of the round globes that smashed against his hips on every thrust. But now that it’s right in front of his eyes, Kurt _gropes_. He digs his fingers into the thick, gorgeous flesh and lets it sink underneath the pressure, watching the dimples grow deeper the harder he presses.

 

“Didn’t get to play with you much last time, did I?”

 

“Play with me _now_ , please!” Blaine begs, thrusting his ass back into Kurt’s hands.

 

“You’re going to make me late for school, baby. And how are you going to get through class today, looking at me and knowing that I just fucked you senseless over the counter just a few hours prior? I don’t know if you can handle that.” Without warning, Kurt swats Blaine’s ass before gripping it hard once more right on the rosy skin.

 

“I can, I promise! I need it, Kurt, I _need_ it.” Blaine begs helplessly, scrabbling his hands backwards to urge Kurt’s ass forward, but Kurt doesn’t budge.

 

“You want your teacher to fuck you again, baby? Fuck you nice and proper so you have to cross those little legs while I teach the lesson today because you won’t be able to stop thinking about it?”

 

“Goddamn it, Mr. Hummel, just do it!” Blaine sobs, and the name slips out. And normally Kurt hates it when Blaine calls him that in private, but _now_ , when they’re playing this…this game, Kurt supposes?  It’s fucking hot, how young Blaine is, and knowing that Blaine _will_ be thinking about this during class.

 

For Christ’s sake, they’ve already done it once, and there is no way the results could be more detrimental than they were the first time. Not in the privacy of Kurt’s apartment where they are the only two who are there to witness.

 

Kurt’s pajamas are on the floor with Blaine’s underwear in a few seconds’ time, and his hand ignites Blaine’s skin as his fingers reach the hot, wet folds of Blaine’s pussy. He parts the lips with his fingers and taps teasingly at Blaine’s clit with his middle finger as the boy bucks into it, whimpering.

 

“You want me to fill up your pussy again?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Yes what?”

 

“Yes _please_!”

 

“Yes please _what,_ Blaine?” Kurt hints, nipping at Blaine’s jaw. He feels the boy shudder underneath him when it registers, exactly what Kurt wants from him.

 

“Yes…sir. Please, sir.”

 

Kurt hums approvingly in his ear and rewards him with two fingers inside his cunt to pleasure him. Kurt knows that Blaine has been indulging himself in dildos since his hormones starting spiraling out of control, but this is the first time Kurt has experienced evidence of that, with his fingers sliding inside with no resistance. “Good boy, Blaine. So obedient, so willing, aren’t you?  You’re desperate for it.”

 

“Only for you, sir. Want you to stretch me open with your cock.”

 

“You think your juicy little pussy can handle me again?” Kurt teases the dripping head of his cock up and down the crack of Blaine’s bare ass and letting it slide against both of his holes languorously, but refusing to slip inside.

 

“I know I can.”

 

“Tell me how wet you are for my cock, baby.” Kurt says low, perfectly aware of just how aroused Blaine is from how easily he slides around his fingers, but wanting to hear it from those lusciously bitten-red lips.

 

“Fucking soaked for it, sir. I need it, _please_.”

 

“Open your legs.” Kurt prompts gently. Blaine responds with haste, sliding his feet further apart on the linoleum of the kitchen floor. Kurt’s fingers slip out of Blaine in favor of lining his cock up with his entrance, tracing the head along the edges before pushing all the way inside and hearing Blaine moan into the counter. “Yeah, that feel good, baby?” Kurt entices, not wasting time in speeding his thrusts up into the boy.

 

“Oh god, so good, sir. Thank you.” Blaine groans, resting his head against his folded arms on the counter as Kurt fucks into him sharply, hands planted firmly on Blaine’s hips. “More, please. Wanna feel it all day.”

 

“I bet you do. Remember how it feels to have a big cock opening you up? Splitting your pussy open?” Blaine just whimpers in reply, torqueing his hips down onto Kurt as often as he can when Kurt thrusts upwards. “That’s right, take me nice and deep. Deep in your pussy.”

 

Blaine is still a good fuck, even four months pregnant. Kurt knows he only has one reference point, but that one other time had been above average to say the least, and Kurt can’t help but wonder how many people Blaine _has_ fucked in the past.

 

Blaine coils up fast, faster than expected, and starts begging Kurt to come inside of him before he does. It really doesn’t take much, just attuning himself to the sounds dribbling out of Blaine’s mouth and fucking hard and fast into his wet pussy has him spilling inside of Blaine for the second time in either of their lives, and Blaine takes it just as well as the first.

 

Blaine collapses against the counter as the flow of come inside of him sends him over the edge, shaking and convulsing with pleasure underneath him. He whimpers quietly into his arms as he comes down, then reaches behind him to circles his fingers around Kurt’s cock where it disappears into his own cunt. Kurt jolts up one more time and Blaine cries out softly, stroking his fingers around his stretched entrance.

 

The sensation of Blaine’s fingers drifting so lightly around his cock has him twitching, wanting more, and Kurt just might be able to be persuaded. When he tells Blaine as much, the boy merely giggles and rocks back onto Kurt where he’s still buried inside.

 

Kurt’s growl comes out low. “Oh, now you’re definitely going to make me late.”

 

\--

 

So the dam had been broken, and sex was a thing with them now. After this breakthrough, it became abundantly clear just how horny being pregnant had been making Blaine that he had tapped down for Kurt’s sake.

 

But now that they lived together and sex wasn’t a very perilous issue, it happened a _lot_. And it happened everywhere. They’ve fucked in every room of the apartment (not exactly a tall feat, given the size, but still a point of pride), most of them more than once. Blaine loves waking up a little earlier than Kurt to rouse him with a wet mouth around his cock. However, Kurt knows from experience to refrain from slipping into Blaine while he’s still sleeping. Because despite Blaine being horny much of the time he is also fiercely cranky and moody, especially in the morning.

 

But at eight twenty-five a.m. on Blaine’s birthday, the exact moment that Blaine was born (he’d checked with Blaine), Kurt makes an exception. Kurt wakes up at eight, as he usually does with his biological clock. He sits and waits and stares at the gorgeous, soon-to-be-legal boy lying next to him. Blaine is sprawled out on his stomach, mouth ajar on his pillow, breathing soft. When the time comes closer, Kurt slips the bottle of lube from underneath his own pillow and slicks himself up, just to make the slide easier when he catches Blaine by surprise. Kurt had made sure that they fell asleep naked the night before to eliminate any possible clothing. Kurt quietly, and as gently as possible, straddles Blaine’s hips and lowers himself down as much as he can without making contact with Blaine’s skin. Blaine has proven to be a rather light sleeper, so Kurt considers this a very large feat and a wonder if he actually succeeds.

 

Kurt watches the clock on the bedside table. It ticks slowly as Kurt holds his stance. Tick. Tick. Tick.

 

And then the second hand hits the twelve at eight twenty-five, and Kurt presses his cock against Blaine’s hole and whispers in his ear, “Happy Birthday, Sunshine” before shoving himself inside.

 

Blaine’s reaction is instantaneous, giving a small jerk at being woken, and taking more than a few seconds to realize that Kurt is buried to the hilt inside his pussy. Blaine moans loudly into the pillow under his head, rolling his ass back onto Kurt’s dick with morning laziness. “This sure as fuck better not be my only birthday present.”

 

Kurt chuckles in Blaine’s ear, fucking into him abruptly just to hear Blaine moan again for him. “Of course not, baby. This is just your wake up call.”

 

“And I’ll— _mmm_ —excuse it this time, only because I’m actually legal now.”

 

“Mmhm. Exactly legal, if you check the clock.”

 

Blaine’s head lifts from the pillow to take in the time, where the minute hand has only just ticked to eight twenty-six. “God, you minx. You planned this.” Blaine groans with a smile intact.

 

“Every second of it. Now lie down and take your birthday fuck. Because afterwards comes the birthday spanking.” Kurt dangles the prospect in front of Blaine’s eyes, and he whimpers just like Kurt knew he would. For good measure, Kurt takes two handfuls of Blaine’s ass and begins to mold it between his fingers. “Gonna get your creamy ass nice and rosy, like a pretty little birthday cake.”

 

“Oh god, please hurry up and fuck me, I can’t…” Blaine whines, and Kurt shushes him.

 

“Good things come to those who wait, Birthday Boy.”

 

\--

 

Blaine hadn’t slept in his own bed in weeks, and Kurt feels like he should mind, but he doesn’t. Blaine is always naked next to him, and he loves stroking over Blaine’s burgeoning stomach slowly, waiting to feel those first kicks, even though he is well aware that they probably won’t happen for another few weeks.

 

But when Blaine shoots up to a sitting position in the middle of the night, clutching his stomach, Kurt is pretty sure he feels his heart stop as he’s jolted out of sleep.

 

“Blaine, what’s wrong? Is something wrong with the baby?” Kurt asks, still groggy and voice thick with sleep, but instantly alert.

 

Blaine’s face breaks into a smile, shaking his head adamantly. “No, no it’s…” Blaine grabs Kurt’s hand and places it on his stomach. Kurt feels nothing, not yet, but he understands.

 

“Oh my god! It kicked, didn’t it? You felt it!”

 

Blaine nods excitedly, staring down at his swelling abdomen with wonder. “I felt the baby.”

 

Kurt surges forward, smashing his lips against Blaine’s with a thrilled squeal. “There’s really a baby in there.”

 

“Our baby.” Blaine reminds, “All ours.”

 

Kurt kisses him again, smoothing his hand over Blaine’s skin, when he feels it. A little kick. Blaine gasps quietly, feeling it too, and they exchange expressions of awe. “Oh my god.” Kurt exhales cheerily, leaving his hand on Blaine, not wanting to miss it if it happens a second time because one time was definitely not enough for him.

 

“And we can find out the sex next week, Kurt! We’ll know what it is!” Blaine says, planting another kiss on Kurt’s lips with pure giddy excitement. Blaine tackles him back down to the bed, straddling Kurt’s hips with a startling amount of energy for three in the morning. “I want to ride you. Right now.”

 

“Blaine, it’s three in the morning! Plus, the baby will know…” Kurt mumbles, cupping his hands around Blaine’s hips.

 

Blaine rolls his eyes, tugging Kurt’ boxer-briefs down low enough to pull out his still-soft cock. “The baby should give credit to the act which created it. I think the baby would be all for celebratory sex right now. I know. We have a very close connection.” Blaine says matter-of-factly as he wraps a hand around Kurt’s cock and pumps, filling out with blood just a little too easily in Blaine’s grip than Kurt would like, but he is dangerously powerless to this boy.

 

“At least…at least we know the baby is awake, right?” Kurt pants out as Blaine strokes him to full hardness.

 

Blaine smirks and nods, lifting himself up just enough to line Kurt up with his pussy and sink down onto it in one go. And Kurt lets Blaine have him.

 

\--

 

“It’s cold.” Blaine breathes out with a small smile as the doctor applies the ultrasound gel over his stomach.

 

“It’ll warm up quickly once it spreads, don’t worry.” The doctor soothes, his eyes locking with Kurt’s for a moment and offering an encouraging smile. Kurt returns it, clutching Blaine’s hand a little more firmly simply out of nerves.

 

The doctor moves fast and efficient, the transducer in hand as he seeks out the best spot to project the image of the baby on the screen. “Ah, there we are.” The doctor invites both of them to look over at the screen, where there undoubtedly is a small fetus curled up inside Blaine.

 

“Oh god.” Blaine sobs, pressing a hand to his mouth, and Kurt can tell he’s grinning like a maniac behind it. Mainly because Kurt is too at the moment.

 

“What is it? Boy or girl?” Kurt asks anxiously, his thumb rubbing over the side of Blaine’s hand.

 

The doctor smiles kindly, adjusting the view for a better image of the sex before setting down the probe to head over to the screen. He uses his finger to guide the shape of the fetus for Kurt and Blaine. “You see, there’s the head. There’s the body. The tiny little arms, legs, and…looks like it’s a girl. Congratulations.”

 

“Oh my god!” Blaine squeaks, smiling wide over at Kurt, and Kurt is all too willing to grin back.

 

“We’re having a _girl_ , Blaine.”

 

“We’re having a girl!” Blaine squeals, clasping Kurt’s hand in his. And damn it all to hell, Kurt leans down and kisses Blaine full on the mouth, pouring every ounce of his soul into it, all the pride in his heart that they created that baby, and it’s going to be theirs.

 

\--

 

“Outta my way, fucking fatass.”

 

The words make Kurt whirl around, where a six foot three hockey player shoves past Blaine needlessly in the virtually empty hallway, knocking Blaine’s satchel off his shoulder. Blaine tenses up as the hockey player—Marty Briggs, Kurt’s brain supplies—sneers back at him.

 

The words cut Kurt deep, because the inevitable has arrived, and Blaine is running out of ways to hide his bump. It has become much more prominent over the past month and a half, and despite their efforts, he still shows. They’re lucky because most just mistake it for sudden weight gain, as Blaine’s face has started swelling the slightest bit as well as a result of the pregnancy. His ankles as well, but those are easily hidden by the full-length pants that Blaine has been forced to wear since the one tiny men’s maternity section they found at a single decent-priced department store didn’t sell any Capri pants or high-risers.

 

They both knew this was going to happen. Kurt just wishes it wasn’t quite yet. But now that it is, Kurt isn’t going to take it sitting down.

 

“Hey! Hold it right there, Mister!” Kurt charges up Marty, who easily scoffs as he approaches. Blaine spins around and locks eyes with Kurt for no more than a minute, but Kurt takes in a mix of emotions on his face. Kurt just nods, giving him whatever assurance he can.

 

“What?” Marty asks, no remorse in his tone.

 

“There is absolutely _no_ place for those kinds of words in these halls, and _definitely_ not in my presence, Mr. Briggs.” Kurt threatens. “If I ever catch you harassing a student again, or even _hear_ of it, you’ll be suspended so fast even one of your hockey pucks couldn’t keep up.”

 

Marty shrugs uncomfortably, but tries to keep his airs by answering haughtily. “Whatever, man.”

 

Kurt feels fit to fume as the boy shakes off the threat. “ _Do you understand me_ , Mr. Briggs?” Kurt challenges hotly.

 

“Yeah, man, whatever!” The boy pronounces, clutching the openings of his letterman jacket and shaking them out before heading back down the hall. The words are barely audible, but Kurt is so attuned to them that they come in loud and clear. “Fucking fag...”

 

Kurt puffs up his chest, taking a deep breath and warning himself to not go after that disgusting excuse for a student. The boy disappears around the corner and Kurt lets it go as he sees Blaine approaching him, satchel repositioned on his shoulder.

 

“Thanks.” Blaine whispers, shifting his eyes up to Kurt with a little hesitance, trying to keep up pretenses of the student/teacher relationship between them.

 

Kurt smiles comfortingly, placing a light, casual hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “Anytime, Blaine. Just let me know if he or anyone else gives you any trouble, okay? Promise me.”

 

“I promise.”

 

“Good boy.” Kurt doesn’t have any crass intentions with those words, but as soon as they’re out, a bright blush paints the apples of Blaine’s cheeks and his eyes shift to where he is toeing at the ground.

 

“Thank you, sir.” Blaine mumbles in reply, and oh, Kurt is positive his own nostrils just flared at that response. Blaine isn’t playing fair anymore.

 

“Watch your tongue, Blaine.” Kurt mutters, trying to keep the words as casual as possible to not rouse suspicion around the two of them from the nearby students filtering through the hallway.

 

But Blaine blows that all to hell when he fixes Kurt with a heated look that lasts less than a second as he says low, “I’d rather watch yours.” Blaine doesn’t spare him another glance as he heads off down the hall and around the corner. And Kurt wants to _skewer_ him.

 

\--

 

“Kurt?”

 

“Hmm?” Kurt stares up at the ceiling, sweat cooling on his bare skin as their red sheets drape over his lower half, the air smelling savory of sex and his cock lying satisfactorily flaccid on his thigh.

 

“I want to say something, but I’m afraid you won’t like it.”

 

Kurt’s expression contorts to one of concern as he faces Blaine, who’s propped up on his elbow on his side and staring at Kurt. “Is it…about the baby?”

 

“No! No, not about the baby.”

 

“Then what?” He extends a hand to Blaine’s arm, rubbing it in a soothing manner. “Tell me.”

 

“I love you.” Kurt’s hand freezes where it’s laid, his fingers twitching around Blaine’s arm reflexively.

 

“What?” Kurt breathes out, not sure how he feels about the declaration.

 

“You heard me, Kurt. I’m in love with you. I’m incredibly in love with you and I want to be with you and I want to raise this child with you as my partner, possibly my husband in the future. I just thought you should know. I told you that you wouldn’t like it.”

 

“Oh Blaine, that’s not it at all.” Kurt placates, turning onto his side as well.

 

“Then what is it?”

 

“You’re only eighteen, honey.”

 

“Yeah, and I’m having a baby. _Your_ baby. Don’t you think it’s a little late for the whole maturity test?” Blaine pouts, not at all helping his so-called “maturity test”.

 

“I’m twenty-nine years old. Blaine, I’m almost _thirty_. There’s over a decade of difference between us.”

 

“I don’t see why that matters! The point is I love you. And it’s not out of obligation for the baby or for what is morally right or any of that bullshit. It’s just how I _feel_ and I told myself not to, but I couldn’t help it, so I’ve decided to stop fighting it.”

 

“God, Blaine, I’d always hoped you’d never admit this to me.” Kurt groans, falling back onto his back and bouncing with it.

 

“Why?” Blaine demands, a little more than agitated.

 

Kurt sighs, letting his head fall to the side to look at Blaine. “Because then I’d have to tell you that I fell in love with you months ago, but I was trying to be the responsible adult and give you a chance to find someone else.”

 

Blaine’s eyes bulge in astonishment at the words and a laugh bubbles to Kurt’s lips at the adorable ridiculousness of his expression. “You do? Really? You’re not just saying that? Because you can’t just say that to me, Kurt, that’s so fucked up—”

 

“I’m completely serious, Blaine.” Kurt chuckles, but his words genuine, and he scoots over until he’s hovering over Blaine, pushing him onto his back with a tiny push. “I’m in love with you too, you ridiculous boy.” The smile on Blaine’s face threatens to break free of his face when he rushes upward to latch his lips onto Kurt’s with vigor and giddiness. “Despite my better judgment, you better believe,” Kurt mumbles into Blaine’s mouth with a laugh.

 

“Fuck your better judgment” Blaine scowls, pouncing on Kurt and sending him onto his back just to smack one more grinning kiss onto his lips. Kurt bites and pulls on Blaine’s lower lip and lets it slip from his teeth with a wet slap.

 

He fixes a hand in Blaine’s hair and snaps the boy’s head back to expose his neck and bobbing Adam’s apple, licking up the entire column of skin in one stroke before growling, “How about I just fuck you instead?”

 

\--

 

Blaine is straddling Kurt’s lap on the couch, tilting his head up as Kurt nips and sucks at the skin, careful not to leave any lasting marks. His hands wander freely along the exposed skin of Blaine’s stretched stomach where his shirt has been shoved up above his bump.

 

Blaine grins happily as Kurt’s mouth devours him, starting to rock his hips down into Kurt’s with purpose. “So, if I let you fuck me until we pass out, can I get out of that stupid Hemingway paper?” Blaine bribes, sliding his hands seductively around Kurt’s neck with a smirk.

 

“Not in your wildest dreams, Lady Brett.” Kurt mouths in Blaine’s skin, and Blaine gasps in offense at the reference, pulling away from Kurt’s lips.

 

“Did you just call me a slut, Mr. Hummel?”

 

Kurt raises an eyebrow at him friskily. “Well you did get knocked up by your English teacher in the back of a Civic.”

 

“Yeah, sure, when you phrase it like that…” Blaine says, rolling his eyes profusely, grinding down into Kurt’s lap a little harder, probably in an attempt to punish him for the insult. “God, that does sound slutty, doesn’t it?”

 

Kurt wrinkles his nose in disagreement. “Nah. I think the fact that you’re still grinding on my dick while pregnant with my child reduces the slut factor by at least sixty percent.”

 

“That’s right. You’re my baby daddy now. Any sex I have with you is entirely slut-free.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t say _entirely_ , baby. You’re still a slut for my cock.”

 

Blaine smiles up at the ceiling as his hips work downwards. “Hell yes I am. And proud of it.”

 

Kurt hums, gripping Blaine’s swollen hips in his hands. “But that still doesn’t mean you can give me a blow job and magically get out of writing your paper. I can’t play favorites, baby, even though I’d choose you if I could.”

 

Blaine pouts down at him, halting the movement of his hips. “What’s the point of sleeping with the teacher if it doesn’t help my grade?”

 

The definitive pout on Blaine’s face causes a laugh to sprout from Kurt’s mouth, wrapping his arms tight around Blaine as he grins up at him. “Don’t ask me. You’re the one fucking him.”

 

“You’re mean.”

 

“I’m fair.”

 

“You’re not fair to _me_.”

 

“That’s not my problem.”

 

Blaine’s face darkens on that last comment and his eyes grow wet without further prompting. “Oh, so now I’m your _problem_? Is that all I am to you, you ancient fucker?” Blaine shoves himself off Kurt with disgust, tugging his shirt down roughly over his stomach, the elasticity of the cotton stretching. “I’m just the twink you knocked up who’s forcing you to stay and fucking up your life?”

 

Kurt is taken aback, sitting up abruptly and staring at Blaine’s sudden and severe alteration in mood. “Blaine! No, not at all, you know that’s not true!”

 

“No I don’t! You’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time, haven’t you? I’m just a slut, right? Go ahead, Kurt, call me a slut again!” Blaine challenges, spitting the words at Kurt with contempt.

 

“Blaine…”

 

“Just a big, fat slut who’s so desperate to have his cunt fucked that he gives it up to his fucking _English teacher_ of all people! You probably thought I’d already fucked my way through every boy at school, so I had to start on the staff!” Tears are flowing down Blaine’s flushed cheeks as his emotional tirade continues, each claim getting more and more ludicrous, and Blaine getting harder and harder to calm down.

 

“Blaine, I don’t think anything even _close_ to that, baby!”

 

“Don’t fucking call me that!” Blaine yells back. “I’m not your baby! And the one inside me isn’t either!”

 

“Blaine!”

 

“Fuck you, Kurt Hummel! Go shove your decrepit dick somewhere else!”

 

“Blaine, stop!” But he’s storming out of the room in a whirlwind of anger and tears, slamming their bedroom door shut so hard that the apartment shakes with it.

 

Kurt’s head falls into his hands in defeat, willing the tears to not start up in reflex. He knows Blaine didn’t mean what he said; he knows he’s prone to mood swings and fueled with hormones and chocolate at this point. But that doesn’t stop the words from hurting. It doesn’t prevent Kurt from thinking that somewhere deep down inside Blaine, that’s how he feels. The cracks about Kurt’s age, the way he thinks Kurt feels about him…there’s a possibility that Blaine is convinced of these things in his darkest fears.

 

Kurt really doesn’t have much time to think before the door is creaking open and Blaine is padding back out into the living room, arms folded on top of his stomach and his eyes downcast. His face is still streaked with tears, fresh ones continuing to make their way down his cheeks as he approaches Kurt on the couch. “I am so, _so_ sorry, Kurt.” He croaks out weakly, so weakly that Kurt instinctively bolts off the couch and pulls Blaine into his arms. His wet face presses into Kurt’s neck as he sobs out more apologies, and Kurt shushes him methodically, rubbing over his back with all the sympathy he can muster.

 

“Blaine, you know if you have any doubts about me, about us, you can tell me. Always.” Kurt whispers soothingly into Blaine’s ear as he sways them both back and forth.

 

Blaine sniffs, chokes out another sob, but Kurt feels him nod into his neck. “Yeah. I know.” Kurt gives him a few more minutes to calm down and Blaine extracts himself of his own accord. “I’m so sorry, Kurt. It’s the hormones. They’re haywire.”

 

“I know,” Kurt assures, stroking a hand down Blaine’s face and cupping it over the side of his neck comfortingly, rippling the skin under his thumb in circles. “I know.”

 

Blaine’s smile is watery, but his kiss is thirsty. And Kurt will take that just fine.

 

\--

 

Blaine waddles now. And Kurt would be lying through his teeth if he said he didn’t think it was the cutest thing on the face of the planet. Blaine is over the moon that his stomach cooperated until graduation so that he wouldn’t have to admit to the fact that, yes, he was pregnant, and yes it was his English teacher’s child.

 

Blaine wasn’t _huge_ , per se. Kurt had seen stomachs much larger than Blaine’s on pregnant women and men alike. Blaine simply looked like he had put on considerable weight, that people would only peg as pregnancy if they bothered to look close.

 

Only the bare minimum of people knew, including Sam, only the people that Blaine felt comfortable telling and felt like he would betray the friendships of if he kept something this big a secret. And they were both content with who knew and who didn’t.

 

When the school year ended, it was hundreds of pounds of weight lifted from Kurt’s shoulders knowing that Kurt was officially not Blaine’s teacher anymore. Nothing could be done about Blaine living with him, about their future together, and about how they feel about each other. Blaine was legal, an independent, and a high school graduate who had been accepted to some of the greatest music schools in the country—all but one of which he turned down, of course.

 

However, even NYU Blaine had deferred on, not exactly sure where life was leading him. Besides, he needed to take care of the baby first and foremost. Kurt had offered to turn in his notice to the school long ago to help with the baby, but Blaine had refused, and they had a lengthy discussion wherein they decided to stay in Lima for a year, raising their little girl and looking for places to live in New York as well as a job for Kurt that could sustain their small family.

 

The couple had _time_. Time to work things out and to get their lives together and to adjust to the very large change that was about to be gifted to them.

 

So Kurt watches affectionately as Blaine toddles out from the kitchen, his hands bracing his lower back as he makes his way to the couch to crash down next to Kurt.

 

“Honey, you know I love you, but it might make me feel better if you quit staring at me like that while I’m the size of a house.” Blaine tucks his head into Kurt’s neck in a way that is now more familiar to him than the halls of McKinley.

 

“You are not the size of a house, you are the size of my boyfriend, and this is just the way I like you,” Kurt reassures, pressing a kiss to Blaine’s temple fleetingly as he wraps an arm around Blaine’s shoulders to hold him close. A small smile adorns Blaine’s lips at the comment and he snuggles that much more into Kurt’s embrace.

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Kurt responds easily, kissing the top of his head and stroking the bulge of his abdomen with his hand.

 

“I don’t know if I’ve told you this or not, but you have made me so indescribably happy,” Blaine whispers into Kurt’s skin, and it sounds so peaceful that it makes Kurt’s heart flip and flutter in its chest cavity.

 

“And you have made me indescribably happy as well. You’re perfect, Blaine. So, so perfect to me. And our baby is going to be perfect too.”

 

“Only because she’s half you.”

 

“Only because she’s half _you_ ,” Kurt counters, rubbing circles into Blaine’s belly with his palm.

 

Blaine looks up at Kurt brightly. “She’ll be perfect because she’s all ours.”

 

Kurt’s grin threatens to break through his cheeks. He can’t resist the lure of those beautiful lips, singing those beautiful words, and he has to taste them. Just to make sure they feel as good as they have every other time they’ve kissed.

 

They do.

 

\--

 

“I need Wendy’s chicken nuggets. Like, now.”

 

Kurt chuckles, flipping through Vogue on their bed, where Blaine lies on his back right next to him with his hands resting softly on his stomach. “You just ate, like, an hour ago, baby.”

 

“Doesn’t fucking matter. I need chicken nuggets and a chocolate frosty, stat.”

 

Kurt looks over at his boyfriend, who looks back with an unwavering stare, commanding. “I’m not going out again, B. I’m exhausted.”

 

“You’re not the one carrying another person inside of your stomach, you can’t be exhausted. Now go get me food.” Blaine replies, almost glaring at Kurt.

 

Kurt rolls his eyes, turning back to his magazine. “Tone down the bitch mode, Sweets. I’m not the bad guy here.”

 

“You don’t even love me enough to satisfy my pregnancy cravings.” Blaine pouts, folding his arms crossly over his chest.

 

“You know very well that I love you more than anything in this world. And sometimes that means that I know what is best for you when you don’t.”

 

“That’s the biggest piece of bullshit I’ve ever heard,” Blaine scoffs, and Kurt just smiles at the designs in front of him.

 

Blaine is silent for a while after that, and Kurt flips through about twenty pages before Blaine pipes up again.

 

“I’ll let you fuck me.”

 

Kurt perks up at that. They haven’t fucked in at least three weeks, which is strange to Kurt because he’d always thought that pregnancy upped the sex drive by at least twice the normal desire. But whenever Kurt tries to smooth a hand over Blaine’s pussy while they’re trading lazy kisses, Blaine nearly guts him like a fish and takes off to fume in another room because “All you want is sex, Kurt! That’s what got us in this situation in the first place!” Kurt doesn’t even try to argue with him, even against the most obvious flaws in Blaine’s arguments (like the fact that Blaine was the one who wanted to fuck Kurt in the first place, and didn’t let up until he got it). Kurt knows better than to dispute, and he just takes it and lets Blaine cool off.

 

But Kurt’s dick _has_ been severely lonely lately, and the thought of getting to fuck Blaine again definitely has his attention.

 

“Yeah?” Kurt asks, wetting his lips and setting his Vogue on the side table.

 

“Well _that_ certainly got your attention, you horny fuck,” Blaine laughs, his eyes rolling, but there’s definite tenderness in the action.

 

“I’m only human. I have needs.” Kurt works quickly to straddle Blaine’s hips, below his swelled stomach, and slips a hand between Blaine’s legs, rubbing.

 

“Ah ah ah!” Blaine protests, grabbing Kurt’s wrist and pulling it away from where Kurt so _desperately_ wants to bury himself. Kurt is only a little ashamed about the whine that escapes him. “Food first. So I know you’ll follow through. You don’t get to fuck me for free.”

 

“How do I know you won’t change your mind after you get what you want?” Kurt counters, falling forward and placing his hands on either side of Blaine’s shoulders.

 

“I promise. And I give you permission to fuck me, no matter what I say, okay? Even if I turn cranky and shove you off. I give you full permission to hold me down and make me take it, alright?” Blaine compromises, framing Kurt’s face with his hands and pulling him down for a sweet kiss.

 

“Can I get that in writing, please?” Kurt teases, but only half-joking.

 

“Shut up and get me my food, and I’ll be naked when you get back. I swear.”

 

“And then we fuck?”

 

“No, then I eat.”

 

“And _then_ we fuck?” Kurt asks eagerly. Blaine grins so beautifully at him, a look that says ‘How in the hell did I get stuck with this loser?’

 

“And _then_ we fuck.”

 

Kurt dives down for one more kiss, practically springing off the bed as he calls back, “You got yourself a deal.”

 

Kurt closes the door to Blaine’s laughter.

 

-

 

When Blaine sinks wetly down onto his cock into his lap, Kurt decides it was so fucking worth it for a small trip to grab fast food. Kurt’s feet are flat on the mattress, giving Blaine a backing to lean against as he rocks slowly on Kurt’s dick. His hands help to prop him up, and they’ve discovered that this is the best position for Blaine—for both his comfort and his pleasure. From this angle, with Blaine leaning back against Kurt’s thighs, Kurt is often able to hit Blaine’s g-spot, and the way that Blaine’s pussy clenches around his cock on each impact increases his pleasure as well.

 

Of course, simply the hot, wet slide of Blaine’s cunt on his cock is pleasurable enough for him.

 

Blaine doesn’t speak as much during sex now. Kurt figures that he’s already exhausted enough, and having to use his lungs along with his other muscles is too much strain, too much effort. But Kurt is attuned enough to Blaine to know what he likes and doesn’t like simply by the expressions on Blaine’s face. Kurt won’t lie, he misses Blaine being loud, misses him moaning and cursing and begging for everything he wants and praising Kurt for how good he feels inside of him. But just getting to fuck Blaine is a privilege nowadays, so he takes what he can get.

 

Blaine doesn’t last long anymore either, and he caps at one orgasm. The only time Blaine _does_ start to get vocal is when he’s about to come. The whimpering and _please_ s come out to play until he tenses up above Kurt, and Kurt will fuck him through it until he tells him to stop and let him off. This time is no different.

 

When Blaine calls to dismount, Kurt obliges, and he rolls Blaine softly onto his back. But when Kurt begins to scoot down Blaine’s body to jerk off over his pussy, Blaine makes grabbing motions for Kurt. Kurt’s eyebrows draw together and he leans down.

 

“What, baby? What do you want?”

 

“I wanna suck you. Come back up here.”

 

Kurt’s eyebrows rise rapidly at the sudden request. “Really? Yeah, okay.”

 

When Kurt is straddling Blaine’s shoulders, he guides his cock gently into Blaine’s mouth, and he instantly clamps his lips around the head. Kurt has to channel every muscle in his body to even _restrain_ from fucking into Blaine’s fucking perfect tight, wet mouth. Blaine moans as he suckles at him, bobbing up and down as far as he can from this position and staring up at Kurt with the sexiest eyes that he has ever experienced. Kurt’s head falls back with a groan, rocking subtly into Blaine’s mouth, and he doesn’t object.

 

Blaine only pulls off for a second to mutter, “Get yourself off in my mouth.”

 

Kurt obeys immediately, wrapping a hand around the shaft of his cock and stroking, reveling and drowning in the sucking heat of Blaine’s mouth, and it doesn’t take long at all before he’s warning Blaine and then spilling into his mouth with shaking legs.

 

Blaine sucks him dry, swallowing him down with relative ease before letting Kurt slip from his lips and onto his chest. Blaine is smiling up at Kurt as he comes down, and Kurt manages a grin as well, running the backs of his fingers down Blaine’s cheek.

 

“You’re perfect.”

 

Blaine blushes at that, ducking his head a little. “I just want to make you happy.”

 

Kurt repositions himself to he’s lying next to his boyfriend, hooking a leg around one of Blaine’s and lying a hand on Blaine’s stomach subconsciously—a reflex now. “You do, every day. Never even worry about that.”

 

Blaine is already falling asleep, orgasms always taking everything out of him. “Love you,” he mumbles, and Kurt is pretty sure Blaine doesn’t even hear him return the sentiment before he’s fast asleep.

 

\--

 

It’s the dead of night when Kurt is awoken by a scream. He bolts upright, and Blaine is already up, clutching at his stomach.

 

‘What? Blaine, what happened?” Kurt asks frantically, snapping on the lamp on the side table and illuminating the tears that are gushing down Blaine’s cheeks.

 

“It broke! Kurt it—” And Blaine breaks off into another pained scream, his nails digging into his stomach. ‘Hospital! Now!”

 

“Your water broke? Now?! But you weren’t even having contractions!”

 

“Well I am now!” Blaine sobs back, and Kurt jerks the comforter from over Blaine’s legs and sees the growing puddle of fluid underneath him.

 

“Jesus, okay! Okay, hospital, right.” Kurt flies out of bed, grateful that they’re both actually dressed tonight, and struggles to pull on the first pair of shoes he finds. He grabs a pair for Blaine and slips them on his feet before helping him off the bed, cradling him out of the room after grabbing their keys.

 

And Blaine just keeps _screaming_ and Kurt doesn’t know what to _do_. And he just keeps saying, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, baby!” And all he can do is try to get them to the hospital as soon as possible. He lifts Blaine into the car with difficulty and sprints to the driver’s side, speeding and screeching out of the parking lot of their apartment complex toward the Lima General Hospital. He grips the steering wheel, white knuckled, as Blaine’s cries of pain fill the car, and it takes Kurt five minutes to realize that tears are pooling down his cheeks and blurring his vision but he can’t stop now.

 

Somehow they make it to the hospital without getting pulled over or in an accident, and they’re admitted immediately, Blaine being wheeled quickly to a delivery room with Kurt hot on the heels of the nurse.

 

And all Kurt can think is _this is it._

 

\--

 

They thought they knew what exhausted was before.

 

They didn’t.

 

They thought they knew what happiness was before.

 

They didn’t.

 

It had been a week since Scarlett Jane Anderson-Hummel had been born, and she looked so fucking beautiful in their apartment. So peaceful when they finally got her to sleep in her crib, dressed in a pink onesie and bundled up in a blanket adorned with little elephants and stars.

 

The soft lips, the button nose, the fluttery, veined eyelids that hide indeterminably colored irises, the baby-soft tufts of dark hair smoothed down on her head.

 

She was every bit Anderson-Hummel, from her DNA to her birth certificate to her adorable smile.

 

They hadn’t slept in days, hadn’t fucked in that time either—can’t, really, because…well Blaine’s pussy hadn’t exactly returned to normal just yet, and might not for several weeks according to the doctor.

 

Which is all well and good because they don’t want another slip up and subsequent surprise due to their exhaustion and lack of foresight to use protection after nine months of not needing any. Right now, they’re content to snuggle with their daughter between them, more in love than they’ve ever been, and happier than they ever thought they could be.

 

When they finally collapse on the couch, leaning into each other for a moment of quiet and rest, and the baby wakes up again with ear-splitting screams…well, they don’t mind it as much as they thought they might.

 

\--

 

Horns honk and drunken parties rage outside in the streets of New York, but Scarlett sleeps soundly in Kurt’s arms. She’s used to the noise by now, and even if she wasn’t, the hectic excitement of her first birthday has her conked out anyway.

 

His partner seems to have taken a leaf out of their daughter’s book, Kurt notices, as Blaine’s eyelids flutter and fight to stay open as his head rests heavy on Kurt’s bicep with his feet stretched out on the remaining open couch space next to them. They had entertained their daughter, along with a couple of Kurt’s colleagues at the new high school he’s teaching at in New York as well as a few friends Blaine has made throughout the brief time they’ve been in the city, for the whole afternoon amidst a fabulous party that Kurt had planned and had been planning ever since Scarlett was born.

 

Each and every one of them was enamored and head-over-heels for the little girl who stumbled around on stubby legs in her pink and black polka dotted Minnie Mouse dress. Her dark curls are growing in beautifully and her eyes have settled at a stormy blue—a flawless and adorable mix of her two fathers, but with her own personal Scarlett flair to tie it all together.

 

Kurt is one hundred percent certain that his daughter will be a heart-stealer of many as the years go by, and Kurt hopes so desperately that she will grow up to be like her daddy in every possible way. Yes, Kurt does all he can as her papa to teach her to be independent and sassy, but Blaine is the heart of their family, and Kurt would do anything to have that heart double in size.

 

Blaine is…beyond words in his care for Scarlett. Sometimes Kurt will simply stand back and watch as Blaine completely enthralls their daughter while they play together, pulling the loudest giggles and widest smiles from Scarlett that Kurt has ever seen, and Kurt can only ever hope to be able to instigate.

 

Oh, Kurt has no doubt that Scarlett loves him just as much as her daddy, but Kurt is the stern one. He’s the one that gives the “no, you cannot have another pack of fruit snacks” and “Scarlett, _please_ do not pull the pots out of the cupboard”. Blaine is the softie, who sneaks her an extra cookie after she eats her dinner and assists in her cacophonic pot-banging if only to provide a little rhythm.

 

Kurt would rather die than admit it to Blaine’s face, but that behavior—the effortless rapport he has with Scarlett in those moments—is Kurt’s unparalleled favorite part of Blaine.

 

Kurt has to be the one to put his foot down when things get out of hand. After all, Blaine is still practically a kid—a teenager technically—and even though Blaine is admirable in his fathering skills, he’s not always the most parental. Kurt has no problem being the “big bad wolf” as Blaine affectionately calls him on those occasions, and he knows just from looking in Blaine’s eyes that Blaine knows it’s needed and it’s appreciated.

 

They balance each other flawlessly, more so than Kurt had ever imagined before the wide-eyed boy with the shaking hands and gaunt expression asked if he could speak to Kurt at lunch to “discuss his missed days”.

 

Their life may not be perfect. Their situation may not be perfect either. But their family is. Their daughter is.

 

And that’s really all Kurt could ever have hoped for in the end.


End file.
